


The October Writing Bonanza 2020

by charons_boat



Category: ATEEZ (Band), EXO (Band), NCT (Band), Original Work, The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Awakening, Fish, JEAN IS A SLIME, M/M, OC-tober, Rain, Smile, Umbrellas, Writober, also rem, cause he fights squid, fairy blood tastes weird, fairy!haknyeon, he's cursed, he's my awkward slime boi, he's smth like a changeling, hwa is a fish, hyunjoon is scared of the rain, i lub him, in the sea, intro/usual appearance, jean cant scar so he likes other people's scars, jean is back, lucky for him rem has a lot of scars, magic amulets, rain spirit?, rain sprite?, rainboy!younghoon, san and mingi are wizards, scars/injuries, spreading the jongho/yeosang yeoho ship name agenda, tbz-tober, vampire!hyunjoon, yay immortality, yeoho are vampires, yeolhyun were like wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charons_boat/pseuds/charons_boat
Summary: I'm mashing all my writings for Inktober/Drabbletober, TBZ-tober, and OC-tober into this one fic.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Park Seonghwa/Song Mingi, Heo Hyunjoon | Hwall/Ju Haknyeon, Heo Hyunjoon | Hwall/Kim Younghoon, Jean Marceaux/Rem Barbeau | Beryl, Park Chanyeol/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun
Comments: 15
Kudos: 6





	1. Rain (TBZ-tober)

The only time I see him is when it rains. Younghoon is always drenched despite his umbrella, his dark red hair near-black and grouped into stringy segments that almost look like octopus legs flattened against his face. Younghoon wears expensive suits and stands under the lighted pole at the end of the street when it rains, soaked to the bone as if his umbrella isn’t there. Younghoon is beautiful and sad, and he sometimes stands on my porch with his umbrella pulled shut; he only does that when the storms scare me so badly that I cry. 

I know because I sit in my window seat as I watch for him. He’ll never come into my house, but if I walk outside, he’ll sit on my porch steps with me. Younghoon always holds the umbrella over my head for me, but unlike Hoon, the umbrella actually shields me from the rain. He talks to me sometimes, and other times he’ll sing songs or recite poems. 

I know that Younghoon is something weird and not quite human. I don’t mind it though, not when he says my name so softly and carefully. He says _Hyunjoon_ like he’s afraid that saying my name too forcefully will shatter me.


	2. Fish (Ink/Drabbletober)

You’d think that wizards would be better at detecting magic in their own house, no? Well, I had thought that too, and so I’d been glad when San and Mingi had “bought me” from the pet store. I’d hoped that they’d sense the curse and break it for me. That… that’s not what happened. 

They named me Mars and set up a beautiful tank, and they left me in there, day and night. Sometimes they come and they watch me swim around, whispering to each other and planting soft kisses on one another’s cheeks or lips. They’re dating, I think, and I’m kind of jealous. The other fish don’t talk. I’m lonely, and the only companionship is from two wizards who can’t tell I’m cursed. 

It’s a unique kind of torture, in a way. I watch them weave magic through the air (and I’d only been human before I was cursed, so even now, magic still awes me) and break spells and curses for other wizards and humans, but I’m left to myself. I watch. I yearn. I get my heart broken a little more every day. It’s a unique sort of torture, watching the solution wave about right in front of me but have no clue of the problem. 

Maybe in ten years, when I’ve outlived all the other fish. Maybe then they’ll know something is off about me. 

Maybe I’ll be left to rot.


	3. Intro (OC-tober)

_Jean Pyerre Marceaux_. That’s the name I’d given to the man at the government office, and now it’s on my official ID card. Jean Pyerre Marceaux is now my official name. I almost don’t recognize myself in the picture; I think I look a little fake, but that makes sense. _Humans_ don’t have strange eyes like mine, that swap through four or five different patterns every day. _Humans_ have to dye their hair to get it to be purple and green (people had compared it to the pom-poms that cheerleaders used). 

5’7”: that’s the height I’m supposed to be now. I’m not really allowed to change that anymore, in case I commit a crime. I’m not supposed to switch eye designs either, but I can’t really help it. Over a long, long time, it’s become something of a habit to show emotion with my eyes. 

My official weight is a whole lot less than human’s weigh, and it’s very misleading: somewhere around twenty or thirty pounds, because everything is fake. My face is fake, and my bones aren’t real, and the only solid identifier the supernatural council has for me are the colors green and purple. 

I stare down at the shiny ID card and frown. It’s just another cage, but it’s not one that’s easy to escape. This is another one of the ones made of glass, one of the ones I can’t see or easily escape from. I don’t like this picture or the awkward smile I gave them. I sigh as I slide it into a brand-new wallet and wonder what they’re going to make me do. 

The mirror reflects somewhat crooked teeth, and I can’t figure out if I should fix them or not. My eyes go from starbursts of purple and green to solid green, and then the left one changes to purple. So indecisive. At least my hair isn’t growing out or changing color again; I guess I’m not as worried as I thought I was. 

I know I look awkward and strange to everyone I pass as I leave my government-assigned apartment. Maybe a little too lean for my height, but at least it’s consistent now. _I bet they’ll want me to find them more of my kind. More slime shifters._ I scoff at the thought. As if I’d betray my people like that.


	4. Smile (TBZ-tober)

“Smile, Haknyeon!” Supposedly, people like it when I smile. I look nicer, I suppose. My parents always told me to smile for picture day, and they told me that I’d make more friends if I smiled. So, I tried. I tried to smile. It never comes out right, though. I think my teeth look too sharp, but no one’s ever said anything about it; instead, they tell me I look weird or awkward. 

There’s a pretty man smiling at me now. His teeth look sharp too, but only his canines. I try to smile back, but I feel awkward again. He stalks closer and his smile thins. There’s a hint of red to his eyes. The realization that he’s probably a vampire doesn’t shock me. He’s just hungry. I let him eat. 

As he drinks my blood, brief flashes of a barely-there memory shoot past. Some beautiful place full of thorns and flowers. The vampire pulls away and wipes the blood from his lips, smearing it across his cheek. 

“Fairies always taste weird,” he mutters unhappily. I shrug and sigh. 

“Sorry. I didn’t know that.” I tell him. I pause and glare at the ground in front of his feet. “That I’m a fairy, I mean. I’m Haknyeon.” He quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on it. 

“I’m Hyunjoon. Thanks for the free meal I guess,” the cat-like noiret says. I nod and smile briefly. 

“Uh, if you’re ever in the area and need a quick meal again, I’m just down the street. The old lady at the front desk will tell you which apartment it is.” Silence reigns and I sigh again. “I gotta go to bed now though. I’ve got work in the morning. Bye, Hyunjoon. Thanks for not calling me weird.” I wonder idly, on the way back to my apartment, if he’ll ever take me up on the offer. Probably not, if my blood tastes weird.


	5. Awakening (Writober)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changed to writober prompts instead of inktober cause. i liked them more so. yay.

Once, long ago, the demons of old raised the dead for their armies. At some point, though, the humans began to lock their coffins and seal their dead in heavy stone, to keep their loved ones safe from the demons. So now, the demons just make vampires and the like. 

I’d killed a demon once, after it turned Yeosang. Yeo nearly killed me in return, but I stopped him just fast enough to get myself turned as well. So then, it was Yeosang and Jongho against the world. Or, really, just the sun. The public knew about vampires, had for centuries. No one cared anymore. Our only real enemies were pathetic remnants of the Red Cross, a group who’d hunted vampires before being forced to change their name after the _other_ Red Cross was created, and the sun. 

Meeting Chanyeol and Jaehyun had been a blessing. They were wizards of a sort and made us amulets that would protect us from the sun. They used something called an awakening spell and said it was the second step of the turning process that the demons never bothered to complete. With the amulets protecting us against the sun, it was Jongho and Yeosang against… nothing. There were only the scattered remnants of the Red Cross, and they were no more dangerous than flies.


	6. Scars/Injuries (OC-tober)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so returns jean, the slime boy who can't have his own scars so he's fascinated by the ones others have got and sometimes he mimics them. he's awkward but bold. what a man!
> 
> to be fair, technically slimes aren't gendered. he just likes being a guy. 
> 
> also yea I'm kinda just not really feeling october challenges like this so. ill likely skip most of them sjgnkjgneojbgt
> 
> also if u want more rem description, he's in space fic (Things change(don't let it get to you))

Once, when I was young, I fell down and got hurt. It was back before I knew how to keep one form steady, so I immediately changed from the young child I’d been pretending to be back to my original form: a formless mass of green and purple slime. My mother took me inside and coaxed me into human form again, and I was surprised to find that I wasn’t hurt at all. I hadn’t even scarred on the knees I was sure had been cut open. She quietly explained that we would never be able to keep our own scars and could only mimic them. 

Since then, I’ve been fascinated by scars and the reasons for them. Some scars are tiny and white, slightly raised even; others are like shallow, shiny ditches in the skin; I’ve seen scars that were a bright pink or red, and others that were mottled. Most scars are insignificant and almost unnoticeable. This man, though, has very unique scars.

The tall man--and I mean really tall, considering he has to be something near two feet taller than me at my current height of 5’7”--is handsome. He has thick-rimmed glasses on and he’s got long toes to match his long fingers. None of that is what I’m curious about though. This man has a weird mixture of scars all across his torso, and I’m thankful that I came to the beach today because otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen the circular scars scattered across his skin amongst straighter, deeper ones. For a moment, I feel nervous about walking up to him and asking about his scars, because perhaps the story of them is too personal to tell. My curiosity wins quickly and sending me striding over. 

“Uhm, I’m sorry to bother you, I just… I was wondering if you might tell me about your scars? They don’t look like any I’ve seen before.” Perhaps he can tell that I’m not human. It’s probably my eyes. 

“I’m a siren,” he murmurs. His voice is so deep that it’s almost hard to make out what he says. “They’re from fighting giant squid. Why’d you wanna know?”

“I’m a shifter. Slime base,” I tell him, letting my fingers melt for a second before reforming them. “Slime shifters can’t really scar, we can only mimic.” I demonstrate by forcing a white ring-like scar to appear on my forearm. “Even then, it’s not really the same. I just like hearing about people’s scars ‘cause I can’t have my own. I’m Jean Marceaux, by the way.” The tall, handsome strangely smiles at me. 

“Rem Barbeau,” he responds. He looks out to sea and then back at me, smiling. “If you come back at dusk, I’ll tell you about what it’s like to fight a squid.” I smile widely and nod, quickly turning into a seagull and flying away. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that in front of everyone. I’ll probably get another strike on my record. It’ll be fine, though. It’s always fine.


End file.
